After The Games
by entertainment-for-me
Summary: What happens to dead tributes after TheGames? This is the story of three different tributes as they go through the Capitol's secret program for "dead" tributes. Aidan, Jordan, and Sydnee must take on their new lives, and new enemies, as they face real teenage problems and those only found in Panem.
1. Introduction

Darkness. It is what I see.

Pain. It is what I feel.

Oblivion. It consumes me.

But life is what I know. I cannot be dead, can I? Unless this is death, but it cannot be. I know I am alive and I realize that the darkness is only that, a dark room. I am laying on the cold floor, so try to stand. But I cannot move anything but my eyes.

_So what exactly just happened?_ I ask myself.

I was in the arena, guarding the food for the tributes. I heard a noise and went to find it. But then I heard the explosion. When I went back, the pile of supplies was ablaze and Cato, in his furry, attacked me.

_But what happened after that?_ I know this cannot be the arena.

But I know I am the District 3 tribute to the 7th Hunger Games. I also know that I, Aidan Summers, am alive.


	2. Chapter 1 Pain

**Aidan's POV**

After some time, I put the pieces together: I cannot move anything below my neck, so Cato must have broken my neck. I barely survived and the Capitol is keeping me alive with a machine somewhere in the room that is making a low humming. The government must have a diabolical plan for me.

But I can feel the coldness of the floor on the exposed skin of my hands, so there must be something that is not completely destroyed in my neck.

I lay there on the floor, in complete blackness for what seems like forever, but it very well could have been only a few short hours, before I see a small stream of light. It is something so small, but it gives me hope and reminds me that I am alive. And that fact fills me with joy as I have one thought: I am not in the Hunger Games!

Shortly after I notice the light, it gets bigger, like a door being opened. Then I hear footsteps and realize that it really was an opening door and someone has entered the room. I cannot move my head, so I use my eyes to see the stranger. Unfortunately, they are too far away.

"Mr. Summers, can you hear me?" Asks a deep man's voice.

"Yes," I manage to whisper.

"Can you move?" He asks.

"No," I reply quietly.

"Then the tests were correct," he says, sighing. "Enter," he commands, slightly louder as more footsteps enter and the lights turn on, revealing a sterile-looking white room. "Mr. Summers this will require a major operation, which may be quite painful as your feeling returns."

That worries me, but I already hurt. I can stand pain quite well, so I try to relax, telling myself it cannot hurt worse than death. I think about what will happen after this. And as myself questions. _Why are they fixing me? How am I alive and outside the arena? Did I win? What does the Capitol have planned for a 12 year old?_

Eventually, the pain comes. At first, it is just a slight pressure in my neck, telling me that they can fix my damaged nerves, but the intensity slowly grows until it is excruciating. I hurt worse than I could have ever imagined. When I scream, they ignore me. These people I do not even know are causing me more misery than I thought was possible. I black out.

When I wake, the operation is not over, and the pain continues. Now, the only thing I cannot move is my left leg, which is where I can see doctors working and the hurting is most severe. I thrash out, but am quickly restrained by several people that tie me down, and again, I pass out.

Next time I wake, the room is again empty, but light. The pain remains, but is not nearly as severe. I role over, now realizing I am on a bed. My tribute's clothes are gone, and I scan the room for new ones, but there are none. There is nothing else besides me, the bed with thin white sheets, and a door. _What is happening?_

For the next few minutes, I wonder why I am alive and why the doctors have fixed me. I should be dead, or at least in the arena…I would rather be dead than that. But this makes absolutely no since.

Finally, the door opens, and I am hoping that this person will have the answers I need. This hope is extinguished as I watch who walks in – Cato.

I sit up, but freeze after that in fear. Our last meeting was not so pleasant and I do not want to relive it. He stands in the doorway in flowing white clothes and just stares at me; I cannot read his face. He remains completely silent.

After my initial fear leaves, I gain the courage to speak. "What do you want?"

He stares for a moment before answering, "To apologize."

"You want me to forgive you for snapping my neck?" I say, half yelling, half laughing. "You could have killed me!"  
"Aidan, I did kill you," he replies, puzzled. "Didn't the doctors explain it?"

_What does he mean? I'm alive, not dead._

"If you killed me, I wouldn't be here, would I," I snap.

"You don't know what the Capitol can do," he says, shaking his head. "Put these on and then I'll explain." He offers me a set of clothes he is holding. I am hesitant to take them because I still do not trust him, but I do. None of this makes since, so I might as well just go with it. If it was not for the pain of the surgery, I would think I was dreaming.

The clothes are light and soft, but still warm. They fit loosely and remind me of the outfits you see on mental patients in the Capitol.

"So, what are you going to explain?" I ask after putting on the outfit and sitting on the bed.

"You're in something they call 'After the Games,'" he begins. "Every year, after the Hunger Games, the tributes are brought back to life. They never wake you though, but put you in these giant tube filled with a weird gel. Then they freeze it. In there, you don't age, or wake up. It's like being frozen in time."

I let out a little chuckle. "Sure."

"It's true! We were out for three years," he says desperately. "There was a rebellion, and it failed. And now, the Capitol wants us back."

But I still cannot believe him, "Why would the government keep a bunch of dead kids around? And why would they bring us back?"

"Look," Cato sighs, "I don't know why they have After the Games or why they even want us, but I know that I was a mess and these people cleaned me up. I didn't win the Games. The District 12 lovers did. But before I died, a bunch of mutations attacked me and tore me to pieces." The pain in his voice tells me he is speaking the truth. "The doctors here saved me, so they can't be all bad."

"But, Cato," I inquire, more trusting now, "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because I'm sorry," he answers, crossing the room to sit next to me. "After I…you know…hurt you, I realized the Games weren't something to be proud of, just something evil. So, I'm sorry."

I try to forgive him, but it will take some time, so I move on. "So we all made it?"

He frowns, "No, just a few from the 74th. The gel helps to heal, and some of the tributes weren't in it long enough to completely be revived. Most died in the thawing. Just you, me, and the girl from 11. Well, the 12 lovers are here. It's sort of a punishment for their work in the rebellion. Better than execution I guess."

I nod to agree. "Now what?" I ask.

For the first time since he came in, he smiles. "Now I make it up to you. Follow me."

We both hop from the bed onto the hard, cold floor. The shoes I was given are more like socks, and do not protect well from the cold, but I barely notice that because I begin to hurt. Standing brings a large amount of the pain back and I collapse. Cato helps me up.

"I know it hurts," he assures me, "But the more you use your body, the easier it will be."

So, I take a deep breath and we move. I stand a good two or three steps behind as we walk, because the sudden kindness is rather suspicious.

He leads me from the room into a long, white hallway. Only a few people walk around. Some are dressed like us, in the white uniform, and I can tell them to be tributes. But others are adults, obviously from the Capitol. They must be doctors and nurses and others who are here to help rehabilitate us for whatever scheme has been worked up.

"So we've been asleep for three years?" I ask as we walk past countless doors.

"Pretty much. They've been waking us up in the order we…went," he says. I notice that he avoids any words associated with death. "So, I was first and they've been doing it to the others slowly."

"What about the Games after ours?" I inquire.

"None of them were out long enough to even try to thaw. Plus one was a Quarter Quell with adults, and nobody knows how long they need frozen. We just ended the third seventy-seventh."

"Well why are there others here that I don't recognize?" I ask. "Some of them had to be from Games before ours."

"That's right," he answers. "There are one thousand, seven hundred one of us to, as the doctors call it, awaken. So far they've done about five hundred and none of them have died except the nineteen from our Games. But different people heal differently, and it took some time for you. Do you remember waking up?" I make a sound telling him I do. "Well the first time you woke up in full consciousness was about two weeks ago."

That's a bit of a shock, but no more than the fact that I was dead. I walk silently now, just watching people. They all seem so friendly and normal, not like ruthless tributes. Perhaps something happens to people in the gel. When I see a group of girls about my age (twelve), I try to tame my hair, but I can feel that it wants to stand on end, so I just look away from them.

We walk for probably five minutes before we get to an elevator where he pushes a bottom and the doors immediately slide open. We both strep in and presses the bottom labeled "1."

"We're underground," Cato explains. "But wait until you see what's up there."

After watching the lights indicate we have gone up ten levels, the doors slide open again to reveal a massive room.

The area has high ceilings, probably thirty feet high, and the walls on my left and right are sliding glass that are all open to let in a cool breeze to lightly blow the white curtains. The wall across from me, as well as the structure, is made from large wooden logs. On the adjacent wall, a fireplace is burning out its last charcoals. The room is filled with plush chairs, sofas, televisions, tables, and people, most of them former tributes.

Cato quickly tries to cover my eyes, but I immediately jump back. "I'm sorry," he says, looking down at the floor.

"It's alright," I try to sound confident, "I just need a little time."

So he simply leads me to one of the opened doors and says, "Look at the District 4 sun rise."

It is amazing! The colors of gold, pink, red, and purple mix together over the green-blue in a way I never imagined.

"Wow," I stammer.

Cato laughs, and then asks, "Hungry."

"Starving," I reply.

"Well let's go get something to eat," he says, pointing down to the beach, maybe one hundred yards away, where several others people in white outfits surround a huge table of food. On our way there, I bring up the newest problem on my mind.

"If you had to guess, why do you think they want us alive?" I ask.

"Do you want the honest answer?" He says. I nod. "I think they want to put us back in the Games," He says. I am sure he can see the fear in my eyes when he puts his hand on my shoulder to stop me from walking.

"But why?" I whisper, not able to speak any louder. "Why bring us all back, fix these crazy injuries, keep us from aging, and spoil us, just to kill us off again."

Without hesitation, Cato replies, "It's hope. They want to give people the hope that their children are still alive, then rip us away and kill us again." As I begin to get dizzy, he points out a flaw to his own plan, "But they can't do that without a Quarter Quell, and there's twenty-three years until the next one."

"Well, I hope I never go back into the arena," I sigh. But from that moment, I know my life is in danger.


	3. Chapter 2 Awkward

**Jordan's POV**

As I watch the most recently awakened tribute walk down the hill to the beach with Cato, I remember my awakening.

One minute, I am laying on the ground with an arrow in my heart and my friend Kaden holding my head up, promising it will be OK, and the next I am in complete darkness. Then there was the surgery. It was a heart operation that, I later learned, was performed on several of the Awakened Tributes. The excruciating pain is all I remember from that.

Then when I woke up after that, Cato introduced me to After The Games. It is an amazing little camp, set on the beaches of District 4. There are several buildings designed to rehabilitate us and introduce us back into the world, or whatever they plan on doing. But being from 4, I spend as much time as possible by the water.

After being reaped for the 50th Hunger Games, and seeing how they spoil children before they kill them, I would not put it past the Capitol to do all of this just to execute us. I am only thirteen, so I am not the most strategic person, but it is the only thing I can think that they would do to us.

When the newbie joins us, he seems nice enough. He is quite but friendly, and is about my height, but looks far different. I have short blonde hair, and his is long and black. I have a long face, his is round. And I am slim, he seems muscular. But we both have red eyes, just like all of the Awakened.

I do not pay much attention to him though, since new tributes join us daily. Kaden was woken a few days ago, but did not need surgery because he died of poison gasses. The doctors told me they have removed all of it from his system, and that he should wake any time now, but it has not happened yet.

I enjoy a huge breakfast of exotic fruit and bread from several districts before heading over to the ocean to swim. I love the water, and it has always helped me concentrate and through this program, sooths my confusion. I think that is why they picked District 4 as the location for ATG: the ocean.

After about an hour of diving, surfing, and jumping waves by myself, I return to the beach. I take a towel from one of the staff, then dry off and slip on some sandals and a white outfit before heading to the lounge. It is a large room with high ceilings where we can relax and just hang out, but since I am pretty anti-social, I avoid it. Today I go there only because the hospital is underneath. I enter the room, noticing the fireplace has been extinguished for the day, and cross directly to the row of three elevators, pushing a button to summon the one in the middle.

The bottom five floors are for holding tributes after their surgery, therapy, or whatever needs done to keep them alive. They stay in a single room until they are conscious enough to join the rest of us above ground, then a volunteer Awakened Tribute takes them to the world above. Even though I do not have too, I have been visiting Kaden's room as much as possible. Except for meals, night, and a few short swims, I am always waiting for him to wake up and I have a feeling today will be the day.

When I step into his room, I am shocked – Kaden is awake.

He was fifteen when we were in the Games, and the strongest of any of us. He came with me from 4, as that was the Quarter Quell that twice as many tributes were selected. We were extremely close, so I am ecstatic to see his tall, strong body sitting up in the bed.

"Kaden!" I scream as I run towards him and jump on the bed to tackle him. At first, it seems like this has offended him, but then he realizes that I am being friendly and relaxes.

"Jordan," he says weakly, "Where am I?"

_Where to start…_ I think.

So, I explain everything to him. I tell of our deaths, the Gamemakers' tubes of gel, the years that have passed since, and the new program they are using to Awaken us. Of course, he is skeptic and confused, but so was I and everyone else we woke up. I gather some clothes for him from a cart in the hall, and he continues to question me as he dresses.

"How can you trust these people!?" He yells. "They put us in the Arena, Jordan. They let that kid kill you, and then, if what you're saying is true, they killed me!"

"What options do we have, Kay?" I counter. "They brought us back to life, they can't be all bad."

After more questions, he gives us and agrees to leave with me.

"So what do we do?" He asks, flipping his long, brown hair and standing, towering me by over a foot.

"We just sort of hang out," I shrug. "Sometimes the doctors hold classes or therapy, but we just chill out. The beaches haven't changed at all."

"You mean we're back in 4?" He gasps.

"Yeah!"

We spend the rest of the day outside, in the water for most of it. Sometimes, Kaden asks me a question I can't answer, like when After The Games ends or who is in charge. I just have to give him the best answers I can, saying, "Whenever the Capitol decides," and "President White I guess."

When answering his second question, it does occur to me that the new president may have something to do with our Awakening. The process started a mere month after her inauguration (which followed Snow's death).

That evening, after a luxury roast pig dinner, I show my ally to the District 4 building. There is a building for each district on the camp. Inside, specialized housing, counseling, and foods are provided only to the Awakened from that District. I show him our room. Since we were from the same Games, we were paired as roommates.

"I wonder how that works for our girls from our Games," Kaden laughs. "They both died in a sword battle right after you…" Then, out of nowhere, his face becomes angry. "She did it."

"Who did what?" I ask, unlocking the door with my fingerprint.

"Olivia. She was the one that shot that arrow. She killed another tribute from 4 and she didn't even have to!"

"You mean the one that shot me?" I inquire, realizing I have not considered who my murderer may be.

He only nods and asks, "Where is she?"

I shove him inside (which I could never do if he resisted) and shut the door. "No harm, Kay. It had to be done."

"There were others," he argues, "She didn't have to go after someone from her own district and so young."

"It's been twenty-seven years. If they would have left me alone, I would be forty by now. I'm not young," I remind him.

"But you were," Kaden says softly, now thinking. "So were Annie, and Jamie, and Rams."

Annie and Jamie were Kaden's younger sisters. They were both four when he left for the Games, and he always told me how much he cared about them. Then there was Rams, a different story. Rams was another boy about Kaden's age. They had dated for a while before Rams was reaped the year before us.

I chuckle in my head thinking about how, in every District except 4 and the Capitol, a guy dating a guy is illegal.

"I bet they're still alive," I tell him, talking about the girls. "They're only going to be thirty-one now."

"I never want to see them," he says coldly. "Because I know that the government won't let me stay, then they'll just have to handle losing me twice."

I had not thought of that. That is a possible plan: reintroduce us to our districts and families for a short time, then rip us away. Maybe they would execute us, or turn us into avoxes, or reap us for the Games again.

After a long while, Kaden changes the subject by asking me to turn the lights on. I had forgotten them.

When lit, our room is spectacular. It has sea-green walls and light, brown, shaggy carpet. Two beds rest against one wall and a bathroom door on the other. The other two walls hold the door, and a row of open windows that overlook the ocean with curtains of a bright blue. All over, paintings and shells remind me of a high-class, District 4 home. I believe it resembles the mayor's mansion.

"You've got to be tired," I say. "Awakening and swimming all day."

"Yeah, but I'm almost scared to sleep. How will I not dream about the Games?" He reminds me. "In my mind, I was in the Arena yesterday, gagging on whatever that gas was."

"It isn't easy," I confess. "I have nightmares a lot, thinking about it all. Not even the arrow, just the fear of the place."

"Well you know that I'm here for you next time," he grins.

In the Arena, he had made me his project. I am so small and weak, that Kaden chose to protect me the same way he had always done for his sisters. I actually trusted him in there, and always felt safe. A lot of people thought he was just crushing on me, which may have been true, but he was a great friend and ally.

When I climb into my bed, closest to the windows, he sits at beside me and ruffle what little bit of hair I have.

"You're still safe ya know," he reminds me. "I'll make sure of it."

I decide now is a good time to confess my fears, "Kaden, I feel like we're just more entertainment for the Capitol. Like this is all going to end and we'll end up dead, for real this time."

"Didn't I pro-"

"You can't take on the entire Panem government," I interrupt.

"We could run," he suggests.

"From paradise?" I question. "I think if we try to escape, it'll just make things worse."

He just laughs, "That makes no since, but your logic is cute."

Then he slides into my bed, trying to comfort me from the nightmares.

_Awkward._


	4. Take Note

Hey everyone, thanks for reading! One of my friends was writing this story on my account but lost interest. I really like the idea of it though, so make sure you read my story HAPPY HUNGER GAMES because I plan to incorporate this story into it. Thanks all!

entertainment_for_me


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